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I thought there was more knowledge about the continent of Africa at the collegiate level at least than Stacy's initial thoughts
Lebron James on a billboard in Kenya, who would have imagined this? When I first arrived in Kenya three years ago, <span style="font-weight: bold">I had no idea how similar Kenyans and African-Americans really are. I simply assumed that Kenyans, like all other Africans, were backwards and had no knowledge of American culture.</span>
When I arrived in 2006, I would hear the children shouting <span style="font-weight: bold">“Muzungu, *******!” I wondered to myself, what is a ******* and why do they keep calling me this.</span>
I later found out that “Muzungu” is the Swahili word for “White man”. To this day, even some of my closest Kenyan friends call me “Muzungu”. This made me realize that Kenyans have no knowledge of African-American culture other than what they see on television. They did not realize that the same slave ships that plundered Africa 400 years ago, took their ancestors to America, and as a result, it was the birth of a new nation of people, now called “African-Americans.”
As a black man in Kenya I had to differentiate myself from the typical European visitors. I would live in the slums, eat the same foods and even my son was born in a Kenyan hospital. For the first time in my life I had to prove that I was black. It did not take long before people started to realize that African-Americans have a separate and unique identity which is traced directly to Africa. However, I was amazed that Kenyans, just like African-Americans until recently, are woefully uneducated on subjects pertaining to Black African history.
As I ride the bus I see people daily who remind me of friends back in the USA. “I swear I saw Uncle Johnny in town”, I would often say to myself. Every meeting, every church, every time I walk down the streets of Nairobi I will see someone who reminds me of home. There is no animosity toward America like there is towards their European colonizers and there is a sense that if Barack Obama, son of a Kenyan, can become U.S. President, there is something special about America and their Black cousins.
I remember visiting my first group of orphans as they made special arrangements for my lunch. I thought to myself, this is very strange. Since the majority of Kenyans had never seen a Black American, they assumed I would not eat their food. However, I found the Kenyan food very tasty. Beans, rice, greens, and chicken sounded like a typical meal to me at home. So in the food of Kenya, I began to see the relationship between African-Americans and Kenyans. In spite of 400 years of separation, we still eat the same foods, just cooked differently.
The Kenyan family reminds me of a typical African-American family. The men are steadily seeking work while the women are trying to take care of their families with little means. Children play and laugh just like American kids, while the streets bustle at night with pubs and loud music. There is also a strong sense of community, just like in the American neighborhoods. In Kenya, neighbors look out for each other, and often give their last to support a friend. However, just like in America, gangs take the fatherless children and violence ravages the communities after dark. Police often are worse than the criminals forcing Kenyans to rely heavily on their faith in God. When I met my grandmother-in-law, Sarah, she reminded me of the typical African-American grandmother living in the ghetto. Her faith in God, like her American counterpart, makes her rock solid in the belief that things will get better in spite of the extreme poverty and violence.
We sing alike, we dance alike; we even enjoy the same music. The most famous musician in Kenya is probably Little Wayne followed closely by Beyoncé . Posters of Kobe Bryant and Michael Jordan are everywhere and local buses are painted with pictures of everyone from TD Jakes to Condoleezza Rice.
So what has gone wrong? Why are African-Americans and Kenyans so different? It all begins with opportunity. In America, minorities have taken advantage of opportunities, including the election of President Obama. The average Kenyan desires to leave Kenya for a better opportunity, and often they become prostitutes or drug traffickers in Europe. Just like African-Americans who struggled for decades to get an opportunity, Kenyans likewise are struggling for these same privileges. Kenya is now where America was during the 60’s. The struggle for equality, the struggle for freedom, the struggle for education all permeate in the African spirit.
“How do Kenyans deal with such hardship and an overly corrupt government”, I would often ponder. Then I realized that Kenyans, like their slave ancestors, have learned to deal with hardship in hopes for a brighter future for their children. I hear the same thing over and over again from teenage prostitutes: That they will continue selling their souls simply to take care of their children, and in many cases, to take care of their parents. Women work day and night, 7 days a week to provide a meager meal for their families, and many men have turned to drugs and alcohol to deal with the daily stress of living in poverty. In short, Kenya reminds me of a typical underserved ghetto in America.
In all, African Americans and Kenyans have the same spirit. It is the spirit of survival which fosters great innovations and heroic efforts by ordinary people. That same spirit, which allowed Africans to endure centuries of slavery, is alive and well in Kenya. The determination to succeed, the desire for a better life and the audacity of hope binds African-Americans and Kenyans together for eternity. There is no escaping the fact that black people in America, like their African brothers and sisters, share an unbreakable bond which has been cultivated over 400 years. I spent many years working and living in South Central Los Angeles and now I work in the slums of Kenya. The only real difference is that there is more violence in LA than in Nairobi. Despite all the outward differences, on the inside, African-Americans and Kenyans are the same people, bound by history!
See related Photo Essay: "Looking in the Mirror"
Lebron James on a billboard in Kenya, who would have imagined this? When I first arrived in Kenya three years ago, <span style="font-weight: bold">I had no idea how similar Kenyans and African-Americans really are. I simply assumed that Kenyans, like all other Africans, were backwards and had no knowledge of American culture.</span>
When I arrived in 2006, I would hear the children shouting <span style="font-weight: bold">“Muzungu, *******!” I wondered to myself, what is a ******* and why do they keep calling me this.</span>
I later found out that “Muzungu” is the Swahili word for “White man”. To this day, even some of my closest Kenyan friends call me “Muzungu”. This made me realize that Kenyans have no knowledge of African-American culture other than what they see on television. They did not realize that the same slave ships that plundered Africa 400 years ago, took their ancestors to America, and as a result, it was the birth of a new nation of people, now called “African-Americans.”As a black man in Kenya I had to differentiate myself from the typical European visitors. I would live in the slums, eat the same foods and even my son was born in a Kenyan hospital. For the first time in my life I had to prove that I was black. It did not take long before people started to realize that African-Americans have a separate and unique identity which is traced directly to Africa. However, I was amazed that Kenyans, just like African-Americans until recently, are woefully uneducated on subjects pertaining to Black African history.
As I ride the bus I see people daily who remind me of friends back in the USA. “I swear I saw Uncle Johnny in town”, I would often say to myself. Every meeting, every church, every time I walk down the streets of Nairobi I will see someone who reminds me of home. There is no animosity toward America like there is towards their European colonizers and there is a sense that if Barack Obama, son of a Kenyan, can become U.S. President, there is something special about America and their Black cousins.
I remember visiting my first group of orphans as they made special arrangements for my lunch. I thought to myself, this is very strange. Since the majority of Kenyans had never seen a Black American, they assumed I would not eat their food. However, I found the Kenyan food very tasty. Beans, rice, greens, and chicken sounded like a typical meal to me at home. So in the food of Kenya, I began to see the relationship between African-Americans and Kenyans. In spite of 400 years of separation, we still eat the same foods, just cooked differently.
The Kenyan family reminds me of a typical African-American family. The men are steadily seeking work while the women are trying to take care of their families with little means. Children play and laugh just like American kids, while the streets bustle at night with pubs and loud music. There is also a strong sense of community, just like in the American neighborhoods. In Kenya, neighbors look out for each other, and often give their last to support a friend. However, just like in America, gangs take the fatherless children and violence ravages the communities after dark. Police often are worse than the criminals forcing Kenyans to rely heavily on their faith in God. When I met my grandmother-in-law, Sarah, she reminded me of the typical African-American grandmother living in the ghetto. Her faith in God, like her American counterpart, makes her rock solid in the belief that things will get better in spite of the extreme poverty and violence.
We sing alike, we dance alike; we even enjoy the same music. The most famous musician in Kenya is probably Little Wayne followed closely by Beyoncé . Posters of Kobe Bryant and Michael Jordan are everywhere and local buses are painted with pictures of everyone from TD Jakes to Condoleezza Rice.
So what has gone wrong? Why are African-Americans and Kenyans so different? It all begins with opportunity. In America, minorities have taken advantage of opportunities, including the election of President Obama. The average Kenyan desires to leave Kenya for a better opportunity, and often they become prostitutes or drug traffickers in Europe. Just like African-Americans who struggled for decades to get an opportunity, Kenyans likewise are struggling for these same privileges. Kenya is now where America was during the 60’s. The struggle for equality, the struggle for freedom, the struggle for education all permeate in the African spirit.
“How do Kenyans deal with such hardship and an overly corrupt government”, I would often ponder. Then I realized that Kenyans, like their slave ancestors, have learned to deal with hardship in hopes for a brighter future for their children. I hear the same thing over and over again from teenage prostitutes: That they will continue selling their souls simply to take care of their children, and in many cases, to take care of their parents. Women work day and night, 7 days a week to provide a meager meal for their families, and many men have turned to drugs and alcohol to deal with the daily stress of living in poverty. In short, Kenya reminds me of a typical underserved ghetto in America.
In all, African Americans and Kenyans have the same spirit. It is the spirit of survival which fosters great innovations and heroic efforts by ordinary people. That same spirit, which allowed Africans to endure centuries of slavery, is alive and well in Kenya. The determination to succeed, the desire for a better life and the audacity of hope binds African-Americans and Kenyans together for eternity. There is no escaping the fact that black people in America, like their African brothers and sisters, share an unbreakable bond which has been cultivated over 400 years. I spent many years working and living in South Central Los Angeles and now I work in the slums of Kenya. The only real difference is that there is more violence in LA than in Nairobi. Despite all the outward differences, on the inside, African-Americans and Kenyans are the same people, bound by history!
See related Photo Essay: "Looking in the Mirror"
considering I know many Kenyans in professional fields in the US (IT, marketing, Law, etc)
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